Page 4 of Hollywood King
I’d never doubted he loved me. Until now, as he placed the word between us like a shield. I pulled away, and he stumbled backward until the width of the kitchen sat between us. “What did you think we’d do here, huh? Come up and look at the pretty leaves? Sit by the fire and play Scrabble?”
He leaned on the opposite counter and didn’t meet my eyes when he answered. “What did you think we’d do? Fall into bed and stay there until your car arrives on Monday?”
Damn him. If I caved, he might think I was okay to wait longer. If I pressed harder, he might run back down to his bike and leave me alone for the weekend. I picked option three.
I slipped off the counter and stepped into the center of the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He tried to play it cool, but the set of his shoulders gave away the tension he held back.
I put my hand to the top button of my navy cardigan and released it. Then another, until I could peel it off my arms and throw it on the snowy white tile.
He stared at me, his chin hiked high.
I pulled the cami out of my high waist jeans and tugged it over my head. The flashes of what my body must look like hit me. The scars from the surgeries, the medications, the chemo. Hell, the crooks of my arms resembled science experiments.
And suddenly, my courage started to fizzle. Standing in a bralette, jeans, and moccasins.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered in that deep dark tone which ate through all my doubts. I locked eyes with him as I released my top button. He dropped his gaze to my fingers and watched as I peeled away the denim. My bralette and panties were ice blue, and I thought the color made my skin look more pearl than sickly. I didn’t know if I had the courage to finish now.
This time his tone took me by surprise. “I said don’t stop.” His words were clipped, and he spoke through his teeth. The grit of it gave me what I needed to finish. His words animating my slow movements.
I swiped off my panties and released my bra all while not meeting his eyes. When I finally looked up, he stared intently at the pale length of my bare body. I shivered, not from the chill, but from the touch of his gaze at it lingered.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he said.
I took a step forward, and he stood up from his slouch against the counter. “No, don’t move. You pushed us here, and now we do it in my time. My rules.” He surged forward and captured my chin, not a single part of him or his clothing touched me except his hand. “It’s my turn now.”
